Second Chances Read online

  “What am I supposed to do, Mom?” she asked.

  As if in validation of how she was feeling, there was no answer. Nichole brushed the tear away and started walking home. The wind bit and nipped at her and it felt as though the moisture would freeze on her cheeks.

  Chapter 11

  Richard

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Richard blinked, falling out of his reverie. His wife, Deborah, was standing beside him, holding out his Armani suit coat and smiling at him. From her expression it was clear she had been standing there for a while, waiting politely for him to notice her.

  He’d been distracted, thinking about his brother and when they were kids. It felt like a lifetime ago, like they were someone else’s memories, detached and foreign. He rarely thought about what things were like back when he was a kid.

  They were absent thoughts, really, not worth the time. He just hadn’t realized he’d gotten so distracted.

  Of course, that wasn’t the main thing on his mind. He was also thinking about Nichole. He had thought of her as his protégé, someone who would rise through the ranks and be a partner by thirty. Someone he could trust.

  He hated how everything had gone to hell.

  “Nothing,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “You know I hate when you ask me that.”

  There was a little stubble growing there but he hadn’t bothered to shave. He was a meticulous groomer and didn’t like to go out of the house with a five o’clock shadow, even if it was after five o’clock.

  But shaving tonight would be wasted on the people he was supposed to be meeting. He wanted desperately to cancel on his brother. After the day he was having, he couldn’t imagine anything worse than going to hang out with a bunch of alcoholics.

  But he couldn’t. He’d made a promise, and he would stick to it.

  “Sorry. You just looked like you were off in your own little world.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “What about?”

  He let out a deep sigh. “I had to fire someone today.”

  “Oh, who?”

  “Nichole.”

  “Nichole? Your intern? I thought you liked her?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said. “But, basically, she tried to get me to do something unethical.”

  “Really? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “It isn’t,” Richard said. “It’s not like her at all. But she didn’t have any options. Her Mom is missing and she wants to get her little sister and brother into a better school.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, so she needed me to file an injunction against the school, but she forged her mother’s signature.”

  “Oh,” Deborah said. “Nichole isn’t allowed to sign?”

  “She isn’t the guardian,” Richard replied. “And no one knows where her Mom is.”

  “If her mother is gone, can’t she become the guardian?”

  “Yes, and no,” Richard said. “It would be a court battle, but if her Mom can’t be located, she just has to file paperwork and hope the court approves. It’ll take months though, which means by the time they get the paperwork done the school year will be almost over.”

  “Did you call Jim?”

  “Your cousin? No, why would I call him?”

  “He works at the local precinct. He could ask around and see if they know anything about Nichole’s Mom.”

  “Deborah…”

  “There’s no harm in asking, right?”

  “There’s no sense in it either.”

  “Unless Jim can find out what happened. Then it would be worth it.”

  Richard sighed. “I suppose. Meghan doesn’t think I should get involved.”

  “Why not?”

  “She said it isn’t my place.”

  “What do you think?”

  Richard thought about it. “I don’t know. She said it was like when I got the bracelet supplier for you, and you got pissed at me.”

  Deborah shook her head. “No. I wasn’t pissed at you because you wanted to help. I was pissed because you didn’t tell me you were going to call them. One of the things I’ve always loved about you was that you were always willing to help me out. You’ve always been there for me.”

  “But there isn’t anything I can do for Nichole.”

  “Because you fired her? What does that have to do with anything? You can still help.”

  “I don’t think…” he trailed off.

  What he wanted to say was that Nichole had lied to him, and it felt the same as if his own child had lied to him. He wanted to say how he had looked at her like a daughter and that she betrayed his trust.

  Part of him—a petty part he didn’t like thinking about—didn’t want to help her out of spite.

  “Jason should be here soon,” he said instead.

  “He called a few minutes ago,” Deborah replied. “While you were thinking. Wanted to make sure plans hadn’t changed.”

  Richard scowled. “He doesn’t trust me? I told him I would visit his damn clinic, so I’ll go,” he said. Then he sighed. “But I probably should have driven separately instead of letting him pick me up. Who knows how long this thing will take?”

  “He said to expect you home around nine-thirty.”

  Richard yawned. “That’s what he says, but it’s not like he really cares what time it ends. He doesn’t have to get up at six in the morning for work.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” his wife agreed.

  Richard shrugged away the chill in the air—and with it the worries about Nichole. He didn’t really have time for them.

  “What a crappy night,” he said, glancing up at the sky. “It’s probably going to rain, too.”

  “It looks beautiful to me,” she said. “You can even see a few stars. Rare with the city lights.”

  She pointed up to add emphasize, and indeed a plethora of little dots could be seen. Normally stars would be drowned out by street lamps, but the city had cut electricity costs by only switching on half of them in the evenings.

  To be honest, it made Richard feel a little cheap. The city’s finances were so bad they couldn’t even afford to keep the streets well lit.

  He gestured at a cloud bank in the distance.

  “Those are rain clouds,” he explained, “coming this way.”

  She looked like she was about to argue, and then said instead: “Should I grab you an umbrella?”

  Richard was about to respond when he heard a car sputtering down the road. He heard it, in fact, well before he would expect to hear any vehicle entering this neighborhood. It was thudding and rumbling, spitting out plumes of smoke as it came.

  He watched the fading-yellow behemoth approach, his annoyance growing as he realized its destination: it pulled to a stop right in front of his house.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled.

  Chapter 12

  Richard

  Richard’s younger brother, Jason, climbed out of the car after jarring the driver’s door loose. He was skinny with a short cropped brown beard and wavy hair.

  Glasses adorned his face, and he looked more like a college professor than a professionally trained therapist with master’s degrees in both sociology and psychology.

  No, he looked more like a college student with that dumb grin.

  He waved at them. “Hey Rick, Hey Deborah.”

  Deborah waved back. “Hi Jason. How are you? How is Rachael?”

  “She’s good. I’m good. Keeping busy. What about you guys?”

  “Great,” she said. “The kids are back in school again so I’m usually lonely.”

  “More time to yourself,” Jason said with a laugh. “You ready to go Rick?”

  Richard was staring at the deathtrap sitting in front of his curb, not even trying to hide the look of distaste on his face.

  “How about we take my car?” he offered.

  “Nonsense,”
Jason scoffed. “I can drive. I’m ready to go.”

  Richard bit back an annoyed sigh. One night. He would only have to put up with Jason for one lousy night. He hadn’t talked to his little brother in months, so he could survive one evening of riding in a piece of junk with him.

  “Okay,” he said. He turned and gave Deborah a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” she said, smiling. “Have fun.”

  Rick smiled back sadly. “Yeah, that isn’t going to happen,” he muttered.

  He turned and headed toward the idling car. The front bumper was rusted through and might fall off at any moment. The passenger door panel was collapsed from a long-passed accident. The paint was fading from a deep orange to a blotchy yellow.

  Yet none of that compared to how bad it reeked on the inside. It was a cross of manure mixed with body odor and a dash of marijuana.

  “Sorry about the smell,” Jason said, quickly rolling down the windows as Richard climbed in. “I had to transport some mulch for a friend and it just sort of…lingers.”

  Richard almost asked about the marijuana and if that lingered too, and then decided against it. One night. No sense being undiplomatic.

  Jason put the car into gear and with only modest stuttering they began rumbling down the road. The smell dissipated as he grew used to it—though he pushed the thought away that his sense of smell required actual flakes of material landing on olfactory neurons, which meant smelling fecal material meant he was basically ingesting fecal matter that was floating in the air—and he occupied himself instead by thinking about what he could accomplish after he was done tonight.

  Or at least he tried to.

  “How is work?” Jason asked.

  “It is well,” Richard replied. “How about yours?”

  “Mine is good,” Jason replied. “Really good actually. Made it up to seventeen people in the clinic for a while. Turned the place into a madhouse when everyone got talking at the same time. A few moved out of town and one fell back off the wagon, so I’m back down to fourteen regulars, but it’s still a good group.”

  Jason ran an Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous Clinic. Richard had never really understood why his brother wanted to waste his talents on something like that; Jason was never actually addicted to alcohol, and in fact rarely drank.

  He was addicted to some harder drugs when he was younger, but that still didn’t justify someone dedicating their life to a fruitless pursuit. Helping people certainly was beneficial, but not its own reward. There was always an ulterior motive.

  Even if that motive was only being thought of as a good person.

  Jason had always been altruistic to a mind-numbing degree. Richard chocked it up to his brother’s whimsy: Jason would save the world, one useless drunk at a time.

  He had agreed to go for his mother’s sake, because he knew she would have wanted them to have a relationship. Now that she was gone, he felt he had to go to honor her memory.

  Of course, that was before he knew his brother drove a car from the stone ages.

  “You sound down,” Jason said. “Depressed about something?’

  “I just…I had a rough day,” Richard said, not really wanting to talk about it.

  “I understand how those go,” Jason said. “I’ve had a couple of my own over the last few weeks.”

  “Not like this,” Richard said. Jason raised an eyebrow and glanced at him.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  The car sputtered down the road, bouncing in a pothole. Richard bit back his annoyance.

  “Something going on at work? Or up with your kids.”

  “No, everything is fine,” Richard lied.

  “How are the kids doing? Still growing like weeds?”

  “One started high school this year.”

  Jason whistled. “You must have your hands full.”

  “I do,” Richard replied. “But they are good kids. Well behaved. Both are already looking for colleges.”

  “Ambitious,” Jason said. “Just like their father.”

  Richard nodded. “They definitely are. You ever planning on having kids?”

  Jason chuckled. “Nah, the parenting thing isn’t really for me.”

  “It isn’t really for anyone,” Richard said. “If most people knew the actual cost, there would be far fewer parents.”

  “What is the cost?”

  “All of your energy, your brain power, and your heart and soul. They absorb your life completely.”

  Jason laughed. “I can agree with that. I heard about a study recently where they said having children was the worst possible thing that can happen to a couple. It’s worse than divorce, worse than one partner dying. Everyone just lies and says it’s wonderful after they have kids.”

  “It is wonderful,” Richard said. “But, I suppose if you are considering sleep deprivation, health problems, financial stability, and short term happiness it probably is the worst as well.”

  “I would like to have kids,” Jason said. “Like Shakespeare said, there are only two ways to live forever: through your family, or in people’s memories.”

  Richard shrugged. “I suppose. My question is: who the hell wants to live forever?”

  Chapter 13

  Nichole

  Nichole was exhausted when she got home. She had only managed to pack up most of her things at the office before leaving. She hadn’t even managed to grab the paperwork for Kenni and Tyler, leaving it behind. She left the office a mess with papers scattered everywhere, but she didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to.

  She skipped her second job, calling and mumbling a quick apology to her boss. There was no way she could go in. Not like this. Not after everything that had happened.

  Tyler and Kenni were on the couch waiting for her, watching TV. Tyler jumped off the couch and ran over to give her a hug.

  “Hey,” she said, squeezing him tight. Just like that, though, he was done welcoming her home. He went back to the couch and sat cross legged, eating a bag of chips.

  “I’m going to start dinner,” she said.

  “Okay,” Tyler said, eyes glued to the TV.

  Kenni, on the other hand, was looking at Nichole. She got up and followed her into the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “Nothing,” Nichole replied.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  “I’m fine,” Nichole said. “Go watch TV with your brother. Dinner will be ready soon.”

  Kenni didn’t like the idea, but she didn’t object either. She headed back to the living room and pulled a book out of her backpack. A textbook, probably science. Kenni loved science class.

  Nichole set about preparing dinner, but she couldn’t get work out of her mind. After a while, she started crying again, but this time it wasn’t because of what happened earlier that day.

  It was for Kenni. She had failed, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew enough to know that, without her mother, there was no way she could file the injunction for Kenni or Tyler. The only chance she had of making it work, and certainly the last, had been Richard.

  And now that bridge was burnt for good. There was no way he would forgive her.

  Rico arrived home when dinner was almost ready. He knew right away that something was wrong.

  “What’s up?” he asked, walking into the kitchen. “How’d it go?”

  “Bad,” she said. “They fired me.”

  “Damn,” Rico said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “And I didn’t get the paperwork for Kenni.”

  “Did you ask about it?”

  “Yeah, but once I told him I wasn’t in college anymore everything went to hell. So there’s no way he’s going to do it for us now.”

  “Maybe he will,” Rico said.

  Nichole looked at him like he was crazy. “Not a chance. He hates me now.”

  “Have some faith, sis. You said he’s a good guy, right?”

>   “Yeah. He has his moments.”

  “Then trust that he’ll make the right decision.”

  “It would jeopardize his career,” Nichole said, shaking her head. “He will never do that.”

  “Sometimes you just have to trust that things are going to work out,” Rico said. “There’s just nothing else you can do.”

  “I wish I had your confidence in people,” Nichole replied.

  “Everything works out how it’s supposed to. Where’s Kenni?”

  She gestured toward the living room. Rico headed in and sat next to Kenni. Nichole followed him and leaned against the doorframe.

  “Hey,” Rico said. “How was school?”

  “Fine,” Kenni said.

  “What did you do today?”

  Not looking at him, she said: “Nothing.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Nope,” she said. “My first two classes the teachers didn’t even show up. Then in science class they just gave us a worksheet to do and the teacher sat at his desk reading a book.”

  “Was the worksheet hard?”

  “Tyler could have done it,” Kenni said. “Took me two minutes, and the teacher wouldn’t even look at us.”

  Rico sighed. “I’m sorry, Kenni.”

  “I know,” Kenni said. “But there’s nothing you can do about it, right?”

  Rico was silent for a minute. “I heard you were getting picked on at school.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sometimes kids will say things about—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Kenni said, still not looking at Rico. “It’s fine. I can handle it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Her voice was steady, but Nichole could see her hand shaking. Rico squeezed her on the shoulder and headed back into the kitchen.

  “She’s just getting worse,” Nichole said. “More introverted.”

  “I know,” Rico said. “But I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Me neither,” Nichole said. “But dinner is ready.”